Free Blood Magic by Eileen Wilks Page A

dropping. “All right. All right, since you’ll have it this way, I’ll tell what I saw. I saw you , Rule. I saw you come up behind Cullen and slap him on the back. Then he fell, and I smelled his blood.”

SEVEN
    LILY looked at Rule. It was automatic, unthinking. He’d been accused of an impossible and horrific act, of trying to kill his best friend. Of course she looked at him.
    He dipped his head slowly in a nod.
    It took a second for her brain to work past the confusion. He meant Yes, Mike’s telling the truth —but the truth as Mike knew it. Not the actual, factual truth, but what Mike believed.
    Shit.
    In the silence, Lily realized she’d been hearing the approaching whomp-whomp of a helicopter without it registering. She looked up and saw the copter’s running lights moving against the inky sky. It was close.
    “Okay. Mike, you say you saw Rule. Did you smell him, too?”
    He shook his head. “I didn’t notice his scent, but I wasn’t standing all that close.”
    “Who was standing near you? Who did you see close to Cullen other than Rule?”
    He named seven people, including Cynna and the woman who’d spoken earlier—Sandra, last name Metlock. She jotted them down, then turned the page. “Give me a picture of where they were. Here’s Cullen.” She drew a small circle. “Where were you? Cynna?” She led him through the placement of seven circles, then wrote his name at the top of the page. “One more question. Have you seen an Asian man here tonight?”
    Mike blinked. “Sure. Your brother-in-law. Uh, sorry, but I don’t remember his name.”
    “You’re sure he’s the only Asian man you’ve seen?”
    “Pretty sure. He’s got a distinctive scent. No offense intended.”
    “None taken.” Though she’d love to know what Paul smelled like to a lupus. She closed her pad. “Okay. That’s it for now.”
    “Wait a minute. Aren’t you going to—”
    “I’m going to ask a lot of people questions. Shannon, escort Mike back. I want him to stay near Isen.” That should reinforce the order not to talk. “Bring back . . . No, wait. I’m heading back there, too. Rule, I need you two-footed.”
    His hackles lifted. He shook his head.
    “Don’t pull that mantle crap on me.” But dammit, he’d guessed what she meant. Or part of it. She went to one knee in front of him, putting them eye to eye, and gripped his ruff. “I know better,” she said fiercely. “You can’t think I suspect you, even for a second. But you can’t help me question witnesses, either. Not when you’re implicated. It would taint the investigation and I’d be pulled, and then I wouldn’t be any help.”
    He shook his head again.
    Damned stubborn wolf. “You need to go with Cullen, anyway.” The sound of the copter was loud now. “Or not with him—the copter won’t have room for you or Cynna. But you can drive her to whatever hospital they’re taking him. She’s going to need you, Rule.”
    He didn’t shake his head this time, but he didn’t Change, either.
    “I’ll get Isen to question wits with me. He’s got most of the mantle, right? If you can scent a lie, so can he.”
    Rule made a huffing noise. It might have been a lupine laugh, or sheer disbelief.
    “He’ll do it,” she told him. “I’ll see to it. Now, get yourself two-footed so I can ask you a couple questions, and so you can drive at your best bat-out-of-hell speed to the hospital.”
    “A Rho does not act as Lu Nuncio.” Isen’s face, usually so mobile, was stone. “I do not interrogate my people.”
    The whomp-whomp of helicopter blades was distant once more. They’d loaded Cullen aboard—still breathing—and found room for Nettie. Cynna was heading with Rule to his car. Someone had loaned him a T-shirt to wear with his cutoffs.
    “A Rho does what his people need him to do,” Lily said, and bent to slip off her shoes. She’d check out the area where the perp must have stood to strike Cullen from behind.
    It was much darker now,